Seventeen years after first launching as a scrappy web series and later becoming a Spike Jonze–produced CBC success, Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie arrives as the perfect choice to open the fiftieth edition of TIFF’s Midnight Madness program. More than a celebration of comedy and sci-fi, it also pays tribute to the city of Toronto and to the very art of filmmaking and collaborative creativity, standing as one of the greatest showcases of Matt Johnson and Jay McCarroll’s creativity and comedic mastery.
Like the series that precedes it, the film has Matt and Jay playing exaggerated versions of themselves, two would-be musicians who have never managed to land a single show at the Rivoli. Seventeen years into this futile quest, their latest stunt goes disastrously wrong and sends them back to 2008 in a beat-up RV outfitted with Back to the Future–style reactors. The twist is that instead of running on plutonium, it requires an equally rare Canadian soft drink that has long since vanished from shelves. Once there, they meddle with the past in ways that begin to rewrite their own present and put their friendship at risk. The result plays like a collision between the absurd antics of the series and the intertwined plots of the first two Back to the Future films.
The production itself is astonishing. Combining leftover and archival material from the series, some of it dating back to 2007, with new footage shot over three months, the duo and their collaborators shaped it into a cohesive film. Their method of overshooting and iterating until the story takes shape has never felt sharper. Entirely financed through Canadian government programs after Johnson’s triumph with BlackBerry, the project has them interacting with their younger, pre-recorded selves as well as unsuspecting people on the streets of Toronto. It also doubles as a time capsule, capturing how the city has changed over the past two decades, from the loss of neighborhood theaters to reminders of the swine flu pandemic. The editing pulls all these layers together with remarkable clarity. In a just world, it would be considered a serious contender for a Best Editing Oscar.
The set pieces are daring and often unbelievable. Early on, they are seen sneaking wire cutters past CN Tower security, even joking at the store about using them to escape from the SkyWalk before jumping. The sheer audacity of these bits constantly raises the question: how on earth did they pull this off? The film brims with unforgettable sequences, the tower stunt being the most obvious, but the energy continues throughout. A highlight comes during real chaos outside Drake’s mansion, where Matt and Jay slip into a crowd of police and reporters, posing as independent journalists. Staged with equal parts recklessness and ingenuity, moments like this spark genuine belly laughs, especially when experienced with a crowd.
The film is accessible for both newcomers and longtime fans. Those unfamiliar with Matt and Jay will quickly grasp their personas and chemistry, while fans of the series will delight in how it encapsulates everything they have been building. Even viewers who have never seen a Back to the Future film will not feel lost. The homage is clear, from the 88 mph gag to the lightning strike, and even the almost-the-same-but-different musical score. Yet the time travel rules are explained in a balanced way: clear for first-timers, but never repetitive for those who know the originals by heart.
All of this ambition would mean little if it did not amount to a movie that worked on its own. Fortunately, it does. The humor lands consistently, and the pace rarely falters. Most improvisations serve the story or push the momentum forward, and the jokes strike the tricky balance between spontaneity and careful construction. There is only one misstep: a fourth-wall break where Matt declares that anyone watching this in a theater is lucky. It is the kind of indulgence he sometimes leans on, tipping toward self-congratulation, but it passes quickly and hardly dents the rhythm.
The character dynamic remains familiar. Matt is the bold schemer, Jay the reluctant partner left to clean up the mess. This push-and-pull has always been the backbone of their comedy, and while it still works, the “leaving the band” thread feels a little worn. Popstar: Never Stop Never Stopping perfected this trope years ago, and with the duo now operating on the scale of a feature film, it would have been nice to see their characters grow as much as the gags and spectacle have.
Ultimately, Nirvanna the Band the Show the Movie gathers the spirit of everything Matt and Jay have built over nearly two decades, scales it to a bigger canvas, and transforms it into a work that feels at once scrappy and monumental. It is hilarious, inventive, and culturally specific, yet also universal in its celebration of friendship, creativity, and the city that shaped them. It will stand as one of the defining Toronto films of its time and as a perfect midnight starter for the festival that represents the city.
Still courtesy of TIFF and Elevation Pictures